Connection
by Adina-Anne
Summary: Thousandmiles convinced me to write a responce to Coats from Alex's perspective. This is actually a sequal so read Coats first. Ok, so I lied, there is a second part to this one.
1. Chapter 1

Connection 

Bobby got out of the car and waved goodbye as he entered his apartment building. Alex returned her attention to the road as she drove home. She had left her coat at Bobby's place the night before and he had kindly returned it to her at work this morning. Now it was sitting on the passenger seat where Bobby had just been.

When she arrived at her own apartment building, Alex grabbed the coat and her purse and started up the several flights to the place she called home. She opened the door, dropped the purse on the counter and went to go hang up the coat, but as she lifted it up past her face to hang it in the closet, waves of her partner's scent made her pause. She sniffed the coat in her hands; it had a very distinct smell to it—one of Ivory soap and aftershave, neither of which she used.

So Bobby had held her coat last night, probably even hugged it as he fell asleep. She wasn't weirded out by this acknowledgement; she could see how it fit into the realm of unusual. But that was her partner. It was actually kind of touching that he found such a need to hold something as simple as her old coat.

Bobby was actually a very sociable person—it was just rare that he showed it. He never wanted to get too close to people, but Alex could sense that his smile was just a little warmer and his eyes just a little more relaxed when their arms were linked. There were even times when she wondered if it would be beneficial for him if she hugged him more. She always felt as if she could use more love, why not him too? To him, love seemed to be a personal thing, something that should be done alone and in private. But it was all too obvious that he couldn't get enough of it that way.

Alex picked up her cell phone and dialed the all too familiar number. "Bobby, can I stay at your place tonight? I just don't feel like being alone right now." Let him take it how he wants too, she could always feign it off as some female hormonal thing, but she knew it was really a need to fill an emotional connection. Though most people agreed that she was his grounding rock in a sea of indignant people, she too needed some foundation in that same world.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Doorbell Rang…**

The doorbell rang and Bobby opened it, finding the exact person he expected. Alex stood in the dreary hall just outside his door, the coat hanging from two fingers on an outstretched hand complete with an all-knowing smirk on her face. "You gonna let me in?" Bobby stepped aside and she took advantage of the empty pathway before her.

Bobby looked at her, studying her upbeat disposition. "Trying to figure out what I'm thinking?" He nodded. "I know what you did last night!" She teased. Bobby just shook his head and turned away in response. "You did, didn't you?" Alex had been half joking—her partner was a complex man after all. She hadn't expected him to try to hide his feelings from her, but his actions made her realize just how on target she was about Bobby's lack of human contact.

He hung his head. Eames didn't need to comfort him. She didn't need to worry about him as much as he knew she would. Bobby was his own person, with his own feelings and he should learn how to take care of himself. He didn't want to feel this dependant on her—on anyone but himself. "Bobby," she reached out a hand, but he stepped forward into the kitchen.

"No, Eames. It's ok. I…I don't…don't need…"

"Don't need what? Anyone else? Me? Bobby, _everyone_ needs someone."

"But I don't want to be…be a burden on you. There are so many other people in…in… Who need you more than… Have more right to your time…" He still didn't look at her. He couldn't stand the thought of her seeing him cry. He shouldn't be like this! Why was it so hard for him? He should be able to tell her anything! Their friendship was so deep, so personal, so perfect. And yet he found that he couldn't share everything with her. He couldn't take up her time, her life. She had hit upon one of the many things that kept him up at night, one of the things they never talked about. And now she wouldn't drop it. He was fine; he had to convince himself of that. "I've been by myself since I left for the army, Eames. I'm fine!"

He said it too harshly, like he was trying to convince himself more than her. "You have _not_ been alone, Bobby! _I've_ been here for you. For the past five years I have been here!" She placed a hand on his back but he shrugged it off and headed into the bedroom. She followed, dropping the coat on a nearby chair, not ready to give up yet. He was not fine, and wouldn't be for a while but she had to try.

She found him sitting on the bed, elbows on knees, hands hiding his face. She silently started walking towards him but stopped when she saw a slight tremor in his back and shoulders. He was crying. It hurt him so badly that he couldn't control his emotions. The man who could have any emotion anytime he wanted in any situation and make you believe it, couldn't control his feelings now. "Bobby…"

"Please leave, now." He had never asked her to do something like that. She was stunned, a solid feeling of guilt hit her square in the chest as she realized just how uncomfortable she had made him. His life was the definition of discomfort—and she didn't want to be the cause of it.

"Bobby—"

"Eames! Please! Just…just go." He still didn't look at her. He hated pushing her away, but he couldn't see another option. He wanted to hold her, to have her tell him everything would be alright—but he couldn't do it. He needed to wean himself off of her support, he finally had to learn to grow up.

"No Bobby! I am not leaving you like this to sit and sulk all night! I don't know what kind of justification you're using to tell yourself that you're ok, but you're wrong." The sight of him sitting on the bed unable confront her disgusted her. They were partners—no, friends. And she couldn't take it. No matter what was wrong with him, it was going to change before she left. She completed the walk to the bed, sat down next to him and pulled his hands down from his face.

With some hesitation, he gave in and lowered his hands. His face was wet and taught. His mouth was pressed into a grim line and his eyes were shut, still trying to block out the world. She reached her right hand up and brushed away the tears on the left side of his face. "Bobby…"

Her voice was quiet. Caring. Calming. The hurt that had been building since her third sentence ebbed slightly. Her hand rested on the side of his face and he felt bad for not being able to resist turning into it. Her thumb started rubbing his cheek in response. "Bobby…" The soft voice penetrated his unusually calm state. "Look at me…please." He did, holding her gaze as long as he could before pulling his head away.

Her hand still near his face, she pulled him back and, before he had the chance to resist her yet again, she pulled him into a hug. One arm wrapped around his back, the other pulling his head into her shoulder. He brought both of his arms around her back and pulled her into him, clinging as a child would to his mother. "Thank you." He mumbled into her shoulder. "I don't know…Alex…I don't—" He couldn't finish, the tears came again.

"I'm not going to leave, Bobby. I'm staying with you. You're my friend, I want you to be happy." Neither of them talked for some time, each finding comfort in the arms of the other.

Alex broke the silence. She pulled away, one arm still resting on his shoulder, the other on his waist. "I worry about you."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead let the words wash over him before he did so. "You shouldn't."

"Yes I should. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

"A bad one I guess." He said with a chuckle. She smiled and got up, heading for the kitchen and the coffee it promised.

He stayed on the bed for a minute to get his nerves back in check and then followed her out. He was greeted by the gurgling noises of the coffee maker and the sight of Eames sitting on the counter next to it. "I just don't feel like being alone tonight?" He asked incredulously, quoting her words.

She smiled back at him. "Ok, so I was speaking for you."

_Fin_


End file.
